He wondered how Mr. Felix Gray had come to make the charge against him. He could think of no reason that could excite suspicion, saving, perhaps, his rather hasty words in the tool manufacturer's library the afternoon previous.
"I suppose he thinks I did it out of revenge," thought the young machinist; "but then there are men--like Andy Mosey, for instance--who have threatened far more than I. Guess I can clear myself--by an alibi, or some such evidence."
Nevertheless, he chafed under the thought of being a prisoner, and felt decidedly blue when Deb entered his mind. What would his sister think of his absence, and what would she say when told what had happened?
"Maybe I can send her word," he said to himself, and knocked loudly upon the door.
The watchman was just asleep on a sofa in an adjoining room and did not hear him.
Failing to attract attention in this way, Jack began to kick, and so vigorously did he apply his heels that he awoke the sleeper with such a start that he came running to the spot instantly.
"Can I send a message home?" asked the young machinist.
"Not till morning," was the surly reply; "is that all you want?"
"Yes. Isn't there any way at all?" persisted Jack. "I have a sister who will worry over my absence."
The man gaped and opened his eyes meditatively.